PYRA AND THE TEKTITES

by Rebecca Melanie Sunquist

Part 9: The Vault of Crystals

Pyra awoke to Flanagan shaking her. For a moment she thought she had overslept for school again. Seeing Flanagan instead of her mother, Pyra started to scream.

"It's just me, Skinny," said Flanagan, pulling back. He loosened the canvas straps that secured Pyra to the cot, so that she would not float away while she slept. "We're nearly there."

Pyra rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Flanagan?"

He handed her a pellet, which she stuck into her mouth, and immediately made a face. "Eewww!"

"Don't spit it out. It's good for you."

She swallowed hard, then sucked water from the canteen he offered her. "What was that?" she gasped. "Some sort of tofu and algae soup?"

"Close. Come on up to the bridge. Let's get you fitted."

She followed him, stepping carefully. For some reason there was gravity in the Ventussa, stronger than she had known since her early years on Mars. Ahead, through the Videx, she saw the reason for it: in front was the hemisphere of Europa, almost as brown as her outsuit. It looked enormous. And beyond it roared massive Jupiter with its bands of color and Great Red Spot. From that angle there was no Space, no stars, only the two bodies. They were headed directly for Settlement 5, along the wall of Alexandria Crater...so Flanagan said, as he sealed her into a full outsuit and helmet, and tested the communications and oxygen flow.

"It's not a sealed environment," he explained, cinching a load-bearing harness onto her back. "No biodome, just some structures carved directly into the crater wall. There are a few hermetic rooms inside, of course." He tucked several tools into the harness, including a pickax and a shovel. "Probably we won't need these, but there have been collapses, cave-ins. Suck on that siphon, let me know if you get water."

Pyra did so, and nodded to him inside the helmet. She was not very comfortable, and neither was the plumbing hook-up that cycled away her wastes. In school she had received the usual mandatory classes on outsuit-wear, and hated every minute of it...but at least the school outsuits fit. She took a couple clumsy steps almost bounced off the Captain's chair.

"I feel like I weigh a billion kilos," she complained.

"You'll get used to it." Flanagan pointed at the Videx. "There, in the wall of that crater, that's Settlement 5. That's where we're headed."

Pyra sat down in the Captain's chair, still groaning. "It doesn't look very big."

"Just the four facades. That's the fronts of the buildings---"

She pouted. Did he think her a complete idiot? "I know what a facade is."

"The main structures have been carved into the crater wall itself," he went on. "The Institute has several subsurface levels, primarily for storage and research."

"Where do they keep the Unicorn Stones?"

"In one of the lower levels. I'm not sure which one, but it is sure to be secure. Or maybe they'll 'purloin-letter' it."

Pyra stared at him. "Maybe they'll what?"

Flanagan patted her helmet. "Poor Skinny...well, maybe you're a bit young for Edgar Allen Poe. I meant, maybe they'll hide it in plain sight."

"But that doesn't make any sense!"

"If you're to tag along with me, Pyra, you'll have to continue your education. That means reading and study assignments in your quiet times. Hang on, the autopilot has just engaged docking maneuvers. We're almost there."

# # #

After the Ventussa docked, Pyra and Flanagan rode a small ATV through the entrance to the smallest facade, where the Settlement personnel were quartered. Flanagan, who had introduced Pyra as his daughter, explained that he was on furlough and had promised to take Pyra to the Institute, expecting to find something on the order of a museum of natural history. The ATV operator merely nodded politely and discharged them in front of an automated registration window.

At the window, Flanagan selected a double-occupancy quarters and paid for 50 hours by inserting a fundscard into the indicated slot. Pyra glanced around the small bay, which was almost empty. At an information window a settler garbed as she was, in complete outsuit and helmet, was jabbing the tip of a mittened hand at buttons for various options. Another settler stood before a monitor set into the rock, where current news was broadcast.

At this, Pyra tugged on Flanagan's sleeve and pointed to the monitor. "What if they're looking for me here?" she worried. Her voice sounded raspy on the intersuit communicator.

"Techno-security only. It's to guard against pilferage and theft, and sabotage. We were scanned when we passed through the facade portal. We'll be scanned again when we depart." Flanagan completed the registration and waited for the quarters assignment. "Ah, we have a room two levels below the surface. There's a connecting tunnel to the Institute at that level."

"So there are no armed guards here?" asked Pyra, as they made their way across the bay to a hatch that led to the warrens beyond.

Once through the hatch, Flanagan guided Pyra to a lift which took them down two levels. "Sure, there's armed guards. But they are not looking for runaways, just thieves and saboteurs. Well, not so much the saboteurs. Nobody would want to damage this place. Not the Tektites, not the Earth-Firsters, not the Wingnuts. There's life in the Europan seas. Nobody wants to disturb the work being done here. Ah, here we are."

But Flanagan led her past the warren and toward a tunnel that led to the Institute.

"Aren't we going in?" Pyra asked.

"I want to get a look at how the Institute is laid out first," Flanagan explained. "I have an assignment, but no plan."

"Oh, we're gonna get caught..."

"That just makes the assignment more interesting."

The tunnel was lit just well enough for them to see where they were going. Sparkles in the tunnel--on the deck, ceiling, and sides--spoke of ice crystals embedded in the rock of Europa's crust. Linear scuff marks along the deck suggested that vehicles had passed through the tunnel--perhaps ATVs, like the one that had transported them from the docksite. Pyra longed to remove her outsuit and touch things, and breathe air...but there was no air, and the tiny monitor just above the facing on the inside of her helmet said the external temperature was 144 degrees Kelvin. If she removed her helmet, she would freeze before she knew she was cold. School training made her check the oxygen reading for her internal tanks. She had four hours and nine minutes left--surely enough time for them to investigate the Institute.

Ahead waited a closed hatch. It looked as thick as a bank vault. Flanagan reached it first. The occupancy light on the control pad beside the hatch glowed green--nobody was trying to use the airlock from within. Flanagan's mitten ticked the auto-open, and the hatch swung out. Pyra dodged back and almost fell, but Flanagan steadied her by the elbow and nudged her into the airlock. Behind them the hatch swung shut.

"Now what?" asked Pyra.

Flanagan chuckled, and touched a mitten to another control pad. "We open the other hatch."

And sparkles from a billion stars greeted them.

The chamber had been carved out of the same rock as the tunnel, but the lights inside it shone more brightly, with more reflection. As Pyra entered, she blew on the filter adjustment inside the helmet, and the visor darkened enough to allow her to see clearly. The chamber was easily as large as Ichthia's docking chamber. All around she saw statues and carvings and sculptures, objets d'art she knew only from holoimages at school. Here were the Venus de Milo and Rodan's Thinker, there a three-meter totem from British Columbia. Stacks of cubes of clear plasticine contained smaller artifacts. And on the walls hung clear cases containing paintings, by Van Gogh, Rembrandt, Cezanne...

Pyra stood very still, transfixed, hypnotized. "Flanagan, what is this place?" she whispered.

"It's the Institute for XenoCultural Studies," he answered. "An ostentatious title for a museum, that's true. And ambitious, too. Someday we expect to encounter other intelligent species. But for now, there is only us."

Cautiously Pyra shuffled forward and touched the ancient marble Venus with her mitten. "But why bring these things here? They belong on Earth."

"Humanity's greatest achievement is space travel, Pyra. We came out here, your ancestors and mine, and we settled. And Earth stopped exploring. It was too expensive, they said. People died out here, they said. It was too risky. But history tells us that all exploration is risky, and that explorers do die. DeSoto, de Leon, Magellan---"

"I remember those names from school!" Pyra exclaimed.

"...and hundreds more, Pyra. Unnamed ones who sailed west from Portugal and Spain and Morocco and never returned. Hanno of Carthage...but he returned, of course, although many of his comrades did not. But up until now, humanity continued to explore. Now they remain behind on the planet, and reproduce without a thought to resources, and fight turf wars over the remaining resources. This chamber, and others like it, are the legacy of humanity. It is only right that the products of our minds come with us. Space travel is not for everyone...as they are demonstrating quite well back on Earth. In fact, the Earth-Firsters believe that space travel is not for anyone."

"But that's stupid," said Pyra.

"'Out of the mouths of babes....'"

"What does that mean?"

"It means you are wise, Pyra, in some ways. Over here." He pointed to a glowing poster that gave directions to the Museum of the Jovians. "Here's where they might store the Stones."

Through the open hatch they passed from the main chamber along a short tunnel and into a smaller chamber that appeared to be still under construction. Against the far wall stood a barricade of railings, as if excavation in that area was continuing. There were also various tools laying about, both laser and electronic, as if the workers had taken a lunch break--and might be about to return. Of the Unicorn Stones, there was no sign.

"Not in this one, Skinny," said Flanagan.

Pyra scarcely heard him. She had shuffled to the railing, and now stood inside it, peering down into the hole someone had dug. It was about twice her diameter, as if the winch above her was used to lower an excavator into the hole.

"What do you think they do here?" asked Pyra.

In that moment the rock gave way, and Pyra spilled into the hole. Down and down she slid along the smooth rock. Within seconds she was in total darkness, falling at an ever-faster rate. How far was the bottom? What did the hole lead to?

"Flanagan!" she screamed.

His voice came through with lots of static hiss. "Hold on, Skinny. I'll get help."

"Hold on to what?"

Flanagan did not answer. She was alone.

Down she continued to plunge, ever downward. She remembered the Lewis Carroll hologram about Alice...but there had been no white rabbit to follow this time, only her curiosity.

The hole grew wider, and she could no longer feel the sides. Belatedly she remembered the helmet torch option, and blew on it. Instantly light shone straight ahead--at the wall of the hole, which was not several meters away and did not appear to have been laser-carved, but natural--rather like the caverns of Earth.

What was this place?

She inclined her head forward to shine the light down. She was falling very fast, and if she hit rock at this speed...but the light reflected right back at her. What kind of surface was that?

And then she struck it. Splashed into it. Sank down into it several meters.

Water?

Subterranean oceans, she remembered from her classes, as she began to rise back to the surface. There were underground bodies of water in Europa, Callisto, and Ganymede. She'd just fallen into one. She kicked, and broke the surface to silence. She knew she was splashing, but no sounds reached her through the helmet. As she kicked, she could feel the resistance of the water against the outsuit. The external temperature sensor stood at 282 degrees Kelvin. If she removed the suit, she would be chilly...but there was still no air.

"Flanagan!" she called, into the helmet comm.

Not even static hiss replied.

Something bumped against her leg. An outcrop of rock? But it was moving.

She turned her head here and there, aiming the helmet torch all around her at the black water...there...no, there! Where the surface was welling up. Something was out there...

"Flanagan! Get down here!"

A dark shape broke the water. A pointed snout. A mouth. Teeth. No eyes. No ears. It reminded her of a seal's head. If the size of the head was any indication, the creature was about her size.

There was nothing else to say or do, so she said, "Hi. My name is Pyra."

And inside her head she heard, Hi, Pyra.

Don’t Miss PYRA AND THE TEKTITES, PART 10: 'THE WORLD INSIDE EUROPA' appearing on this site on 15 March 2003.

PYRA AND THE TEKTITES appears EXCLUSIVELY on the AOIFE’S KISS/KISSES FOR KIDS sites courtesy of prize-winning writer Rebecca Melanie Sunquist.